THE RESURRECTION OF THE JUST.
By Bonar
AUTUMN has come at last; and nature now
Binds up her summer tresses and disrobes,
That she may lay herself in silence down
Upon her winter’s couch, and thereby sleep,
Repair her worn-out energies, and draw
New life into her veins, that when the sun
Flames out again, and the long-silent voice
Of happy birds and happier children wakes
Spring’s first glad matin song, she may arise
Girt with new strength and with fresh beauty clothed.
Thus comes life’s autumn, and the happy spirit,
Calmly disrobing, lays its garments down
Upon the leaf-strewn soil of this old earth,
Committing them, in quiet confidence,
To the safe keeping of the trusty tomb,
Till death’s brief winter shall have passed away.
Then these old robes with which she walked the earth,
Purged from each stain of vile mortality
By the all-cleansing winter of the grave,
And blanched to glorious whiteness by its gloom,
Shall shine in fairer, fresher purity,
When earth’s long-promised spring at last arrives,
And the unsetting sun smiles down in peace
O’er a new paradise of love and joy.